


The Struggle Within

by YappiChick



Category: Batman: Arkham Asylum (Video Games)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YappiChick/pseuds/YappiChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night like this night can cause any person to crack. Even Bruce Wayne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Struggle Within

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes...
> 
> 1.) This takes place directly after Batman: AA. I haven't finished watching Babe play Batman: AC so if there is anything in here that contradicts it, oops. That being said, please no spoilers in the comments. Thanks! 
> 
> 2.) I used the information that was in the game. Comics, TV shows, accepted fandom does not apply here.
> 
> 3.) This story is all Babe's fault for playing a game that I would have never bothered playing.

There is a lot of work to be done after everything that has happened tonight.

Confident that the GCPD has Arkham Asylum under control, Bruce leaves under the cover of darkness and makes his way back to the main Batcave. When he arrives, he wastes no time and sets to work. He has the Batcomputer to begin assessing the damage the Poison Ivy’s plants had done to the secondary Batcave just outside of Arkham Island.

The data pouring in isn’t promising. Repairs will take weeks, possibly months. Bruce wonders if it is going to even be able to be restored to working condition.

He changes out of his suit, into clothes that Bruce Wayne would wear, and sets to figure out how much damage he and his equipment had taken on that godforsaken island.

His suit is ripped apart, his cape is tattered. He realizes that neither of them of salvageable, but he is unwilling to dispose of them. They are a silent testimony of the hell he had to endure. He puts them back in the case they had been in before everything on Arkham had happened.

He looks at each piece of his equipment with a critical eye. His Batarangs are fine; the grapple gun has some scratches and dings, but it is still in working order. That couldn’t be said about the Cryptographic Sequencer. The screen is cracked; the device had gotten crushed when Joker, infected with TITAN, had thrown Bruce to the ground.

TITAN.

Bruce refuses to be bothered by thinking about the drug that had nearly overtaken him. With a deceptive calm, he walks to the lab and pulls out a syringe. He draws a sample of his blood and puts it in the analyzer. He sets the computer to look for any traces of the TITAN drug before heading back to the main part of the Batcave.

He barely has time to start working on uploading the upgraded protocols to a new Cryptographic Sequencer when the Batcomputer announces, “Analysis complete. Test results: Negative.”

Bruce has the computer run the test again. And again.

It is after the seventh test, when he is halfway through reading the report, that he hears the sound of the elevator coming down to the Batcave. He knows isn’t Alfred there, since he went on vacation earlier in the week and there are only a scant few who know how to enter into the Batcave.

One particular person comes to mind.

When the doors slide about, Bruce calls, “Tim, is that you?”

A low hum fills the air. Bruce recognizes the sound. He knows who is here.

“Not quite.” Barbara’s voice is laden with amusement and tiredness. She gives him a soft smile from her wheelchair. She doesn’t wait for an invitation before coming into the main area and stopping next to him.

“Dad is down at the City Hall. The mayor was particularly interested in getting his account of everything that happened at Arkham tonight. I doubt if he’ll be home in time for dinner tomorrow.” She gives him a weary smile. “Such is the life of a police commissioner.”

“He’ll be answering questions for a while,” Bruce agreed.

She pins him with a look. Although he is uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Bruce refuses to look away.

“I’d thought I’d check up on you since Alfred is on vacation.”

“I’m fine.”

She rolls her eyes. There are few people who know the Man behind the Bat and even fewer that can see through his denials. “That’s all you can say after everything you’ve been through?”

“I’m really fine.” He doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince her or himself.

Barbara gives him one final disapproving look before moving to assess the damage done to his suit in its case. She raises an eyebrow. “A trophy?”

“A reminder,” he corrects. “Never to underestimate the Joker.”

A pained look passes over her face at the mention of the man who had shot her, but she recovers quickly. “Yeah, well, I could have told you that one, Bruce.”

An awkward silence threatens to overtake them when she looks over at the screens. The results from all of the tests he has rerun are spread across the screen. “You’re fine, huh?”

Bruce closes the windows with a quick flick of the wrist. “It’s nothing.”

“You used the antidote.” She looks at him with wide eyes. “Do you think that TITAN is still in you?”

“I just wanted to be sure that Ivy was right.”

“Well, it looks like she was.” She glances back at the suit. “I still can’t believe you were able to fight off the effects of TITAN long enough to give yourself the antidote.”

His mind unwilling goes back to that moment when he felt the strength, the energy, the _power_ that coursed through him when he had intercepted the shot from the Joker. If he had just accepted the chemical’s effects, he could have been more than he had ever been. He could have become a god among men. Gotham would have been protected by him, in all of his new might. He could have dominated--

“Bruce!”

Barbara’s voice pulls him from his unwelcome thoughts. “I’m fine, Oracle.”

“Barbara,” she corrects. “We’re off the clock now, remember?” She looks at the pressed suit he wears pointedly.

She moves to where she can reach the mouse on the desk and opens the files. Bruce closes his eyes, wondering what happened to his self-control, as she reads the report.

“There is no trace of TITAN in your bloodstream.” Bruce knows this, but he swears he can still feel the poison running through his body. The tug of desire to feel that untapped power taunts him.

His fist slams down on top of the desk. The Cryptographic Sequencer bounces to the floor, but Barbara doesn’t flinch.

“I was tempted not to use the antidote.” Bruce doesn’t like to admit his weakness, but he hopes the confession will cause the yearning to ebb away. “Part of me still wishes I hadn’t.”

He looks at his hand that had delivered the blow that had finally taken down the Joker. “That makes me as mad as anyone on that island.”

“No, it doesn’t.” She wheels herself directly in front of him so he has no other choice but to look at her. “Bruce, you fought against TITAN. You didn't succomb to its power.”

"There’s a monster inside each of us. All it takes is something like TITAN to expose it.”

She considers his words for a moment. “Maybe, but what matters is if you’re in control of it or if it is in control of you.” She waits until he meets her gaze. "I know you well enough to know that there is no one with the amount of self-control that you have. No one.”

Bruce doesn’t quite believe her, but his body is too tired to argue.

“You need to sleep.” Barbara nods towards the elevator that will take him back to Wayne Manor.

He shakes his head. “There’s too much work to do.”

“I’ll take care of things for a while,” she assures him. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours to run more blood tests, just to make sure."

He knows she doesn't think he has reason to worry, but he is grateful that she is willing to indulge him.  He knows he needs time away from the Batcave and the reminders of what happened tonight to decompress. He will not allow the lingering memories of TITAN control him.

He stands up. “If there is anything that needs my attention--”

“I’ll contact you. Don’t worry.” She moves to sit in front of the computer.

Bruce crosses the room to stand in front of the elevator. He pushes the button and moments later, the door slides apart. He steps inside and turns around.

Barbara is already working on something; her fingers are moving quickly across the keyboard. He knows she wishes she could do more, but her constant presence, even if it was through a secure communication channel, helped anchor him while he was at the Asylum.

The doors start to close before Bruce reaches out to stop them. “Oracle--” He catches his mistake and starts over. “Barbara, thank you for all of your help tonight.”

A small smile passes over her face. “You’re welcome, Bruce.”

 


End file.
